The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the camp. Ares stood just outside the dropship, watching as the other delinquents rushed out, their faces a mix of excitement and apprehension. It was a world they had only dreamed of, and now, it was theirs to claim—or to lose.
As Bellamy's loud voice rang out, rallying the others to celebrate their freedom from the Ark's oppressive rules, Ares felt a stir of anticipation in his gut. This was the moment he had been waiting for, not just to survive but to thrive. He had the knowledge of what was to come, and more importantly, he had a system—a system that promised to elevate him above the chaos.
First Impressions
Ares scanned the group, spotting familiar faces: Clarke, the resourceful leader in the making; Bellamy, the loud warrior; and Wells, always looking to please. But what caught his attention was the tension brewing between Murphy and Wells, an animosity that was palpable even from a distance. Murphy's scowl was matched by Wells' hesitant stance, an interesting dynamic that would only complicate matters in the days ahead.
"Look at this place!" Murphy sneered, throwing his arms wide as if to encompass the vast expanse of Earth before them. "You really think we're free? Look around! We're just more targets in a bigger arena."
Ares couldn't help but smirk. Murphy had a point, but his cynicism wouldn't do him any favors. Wells, on the other hand, was visibly annoyed, his brow furrowing as he stepped forward. "And what would you suggest, Murphy? Curl up and die? We need to stick together, not tear each other apart!"
The tension escalated as other delinquents began to gather around, drawn by the rising voices. Ares knew it was only the beginning of conflicts that were bound to arise in this new world.
"Hey, both of you!" Ares called out, stepping into the clearing. His voice was steady, commanding attention without the need for volume. "We're not here to fight each other. If we want to survive, we need to focus on what's out there—because it's a lot worse than anything between us."
Clarke nodded appreciatively, and Ares felt a rush of satisfaction. He was already positioning himself as a voice of reason, a leader without the title.
Murphy shot him a dismissive glare. "What do you know? You just got here."
"More than you realize," Ares shot back, feeling the weight of his past life pressing down on him. He had seen the future; he knew how this would play out if they didn't come together.
The Confrontation
Just as the group began to calm down, Murphy's anger flared again. "You think you're so special, Ares? Just because you got some attention? You're not the only one who knows how to survive." He turned to Wells, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Look at you, Chancellor of Earth. What are you going to do, write a letter to your daddy?"
Wells took a step forward, fists clenched. "You don't know anything about me, Murphy. You're just a petty thief!"
Murphy's laughter echoed through the clearing. "Petty thief? I'm the one who stole your chance to be a hero! You think they sent you down here because they care? You're just another kid to throw at the ground to see if you survive!"
Ares watched as the situation escalated, tension thickening in the air. Murphy's lips curled into a cruel smile as he stepped closer to Wells, a predatory glint in his eye.
Before Wells could respond, Murphy shoved him hard, sending him stumbling backward. The crowd gasped, and Ares felt a surge of adrenaline. He had to intervene before this turned into a full-blown brawl.
Ares stepped forward, voice firm and commanding. "Enough, Murphy!" he shouted, his eyes locking onto Murphy's. "You're making a fool of yourself. This isn't the time for petty squabbles. We need to work together if we want to survive."
Murphy's eyes narrowed, but Ares stood his ground, his posture unyielding. "If you want to fight someone, fight me. But don't you dare drag everyone else into your nonsense."
Wells regained his footing, looking surprised but grateful. "Ares—"
"Let's handle this like adults," Ares continued, his gaze still fixed on Murphy. "If you have a problem with Wells, you take it up with him, not the entire camp."
The atmosphere crackled with tension, the other delinquents watching in anticipation. Ares felt the eyes of the group on him, weighing his words.
"Do you really think you can just talk your way out of this?" Murphy sneered, but Ares could see the uncertainty flickering behind his bravado.
"Watch me," Ares replied coolly, his voice steady.
A Clash of Wills
Murphy hesitated for a moment, his bravado wavering. But then he lunged at Ares, fists flying. Ares anticipated the move, sidestepping and grabbing Murphy's wrist, twisting it behind his back.
"Enough!" Ares growled, exerting just enough pressure to remind Murphy who was in control. The surrounding delinquents gasped, some stepping back in surprise.
Wells looked on, a mix of admiration and disbelief on his face. "Ares, you don't have to—"
But Ares wasn't finished. He turned Murphy around, facing him. "You want to be a leader? You need to learn how to keep your head. We're going to face real threats out here. You fighting Wells won't change a thing."
Murphy glared at him, frustration and humiliation etched on his face, but he didn't resist. Ares could sense the tension easing, the crowd shifting from hostility to intrigue.
"Let him go," Clarke said firmly, stepping forward. "This isn't helping anyone."
Ares released Murphy, who stumbled slightly but quickly regained his footing. "You're lucky I'm in a generous mood," he said, casting a warning look. "Don't push your luck."
Murphy's expression was a mix of rage and begrudging respect. "This isn't over, Ares."
"Maybe it shouldn't be," Ares replied coolly, crossing his arms. "But if you want to survive, you need to choose your battles wisely."
The Power Within
As the fire crackled and the moon rose high in the sky, Ares settled down on the edge of the camp, far enough from the noise but close enough to observe.
He thought about the challenges that lay ahead and the importance of gaining loyalty. His unique ability, Blood of the Gods, could only be activated under specific circumstances. It required submission; the person had to willingly drink his blood, declaring their loyalty, even if unsure of its true purpose. The only exception was with women he slept with—an automatic activation of loyalty. He needed to share his blood carefully, knowing its power could shape alliances and create bonds that would define the future.
But when the time is right, I'll choose carefully.
He allowed his mind to drift as the sounds of laughter and arguments mixed with the gentle rustling of leaves. This world was a canvas, and Ares was prepared to paint his masterpiece, one stroke at a time.
I will make them see that true power comes from loyalty and strength. And they will follow me, willingly or not.
With determination burning in his chest, Ares Drakon knew one thing: this was just the beginning. The real game was only just starting, and he intended to play it to win.